


Remember Me, Love

by a_static_world



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Pain pain pain pain, also im not really sorry, i am sad, its just all sad im sorry, peep my hozier reference, peep my iw reference, very angst much sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-27 21:59:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16228151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_static_world/pseuds/a_static_world
Summary: "Don't do that.""What?""Lie to me."





	Remember Me, Love

“Don’t do that.”  
“What?”  
“Lie to me.”

The knife halted, half-chopped carrot forgotten as the words rang in Steve’s already-ringing ears. He swallowed thickly and turned around, leaning against the counter.  
“Come again, Buck?”  
Bucky stood across the kitchen, arms crossed, looking angry and confused and-  
_Stop staring, Rogers, he’s talking._  
“-think I can’t tell when you’re lying, asshole. Known you since we were fuckin’ kids, looked out for your skinny ass my whole life, I know when you’re fuckin’ lying.” Bucky swayed slightly and dragged a hand down his face, defensive position loosening just slightly as Steve blanched.  
“Listen, Buck, it’s nothing. Doc said I’m fine, okay? Fine. Get that one through your thick fuckin’ skull.” He turned back to the counter, knife resuming an easy (read: tense) rhythm against the cutting board. Bucky cleared his throat and pulled what sounded like a sheet of paper out of his pocket.  
_Shit. He went to goddamn Dr. Albans’ office. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph._  
“Steve-” Bucky’s voice broke, and Steve cringed as he heard what was undeniably the sound of tears on paper.  
“You’re fucking _dying_ , Steve. You get one more cold, one more flu, one more goddamn infection and that’s _it_. Your organs? They are _this close_ to failing. Your lungs are full of shit, Steve,” Bucky wheeled around suddenly, slamming his hand into the doorframe and causing the entire tenement building to rattle. Steve was impossibly tense, listening to Bucky’s ragged breathing as he tried to reel himself back in.  
“They’re not-they’re not supposed to do that, Steve. They’re supposed to be full of air, Stevie, not fucking fluid.” Bucky slid to the floor, thumping his head back against the wall and heaving a shaky breath.  
“Listen, Buck, I’m sorry for not telling you. Really, I am. But I couldn’t put that on you, I couldn’t let you think that I’m some fragile half-dead invalid because I’m not, you still need to work and provide for your Ma and Becca and what about rent and,” Steve paused, realizing he was rambling and that he somehow couldn’t breathe correctly. Bucky forced a bitter laugh, masking the sound of Steve’s wheezing. He stood up and stretched and goddamn, was he beautiful or what. 

_Enough, Rogers.  
Shit, but he’s stunning._

“C’mere, punk.” Bucky said, flopping down on the threadbare green couch and rubbing a hand over his already-stubbly jaw. Steve wobbled over and-was it just him, or was the room swaying? He settled himself on the cushion next to Bucky, close but not too close because it was too goddamn hot in the room. He swiveled his head towards the other man, realizing for the first time that he had been speaking.  
“Could you-” Steve struggled against the words, tongue feeling too big for his mouth and lungs feeling too small. Bucky’s brow furrowed, hand reaching towards Steve as he fought to stay upright.  
“Buck-I don’t. I don’t feel so good, Bucky.” There wasn’t enough air in the room and Bucky was so close and he looked so worried.  
Don’t worry, pal. I’m just fine.  
The last thing Steve heard was Bucky’s scream as he pitched forward, body thudding against the floor and into darkness. 

“Acute organ failure-”

 

“-temperature 106 degrees, still climbing-”

 

“Stevie, c’mon, _please_ ”

 

Silence.

 

 

A churchyard,  
a wooden cross,  
a man in black.  
He sits heavily next to the grave, setting a small daisy on top before looking up at the sky.  
“It’s too sunny, Stevie. Hasn’t rained a drop since you left, isn’t that funny? Anyways, everyone misses you a whole lot.” Here he breaks, burying his face in his hands. “I’m sorry, Stevie, so sorry I couldn’t take better care of you, that I had to work so much, that I drank so much. I’m sorry for all of it. I couldn’t say this when it counted, but I love you. So goddamn much, and I can’t even say it to your face.”  
The man stands up, brushing dirt off his pants before jamming his hands into his pockets.

“Until tomorrow, Stevie.”

The sun beats down, merciless against the scorched earth.  
The man underneath does not care.

**Author's Note:**

> eheheheeeeee  
> thank you to anoddconstellationofthoughts for the prompt  
> i listened to Shrike by Hozier while writing this can you tell  
> go see venom and a star is born you won't regret it  
> i am tired


End file.
